Impressions
by Musafreen
Summary: Daughters of Athena like to criticize people. Sons of Hades would appreciate it if they didn't. A missing moment from BotL, featuring Annabeth Chase and Nico Di Angelo.


**Impressions**

_In which Nico angsts and Annabeth lectures_

* * *

><p>Annabeth Chase rarely found herself at a loss for words.<p>

Face facts. She was smart. She was _beyond_ just smart, actually. There was rarely, if ever, any moment where she was at a loss for words. Annabeth Chase was as in control and confident as it was humanly possible for a fifteen year old girl to be. Probably more, because she wasn't _just _human.

On the other hand, the sullen ten-something kid walking next to her wasn't really human either. She supposed that could explain it.

Nico di Angelo was a mystery to her. Daughters of Athena always had enough theories on a subject to not have themselves floundering in the middle of the ocean anywhere, anytime; metaphorically speaking. And she prided herself on being one of the most... well... proudest of them. Like Hades she would ever step into a situation without being at least moderately prepared.

But here she was, locked in awkward silence with the only Son of Hades in a dim little street somewhere near nowhere.

She blamed Percy. He never could keep track of her plans.

Percy. Who was out there somewhere with the redhead.

And with that thought, she gritted her teeth and tried to distract herself before her inner dictator started crying out for a decapitation.

"I don't think we've met."

He looked startled for a moment, but that quickly gave away to suspicion.

"I'm Annabeth," she continued, holding out a hand. "Daughter of-"

"Athena," he said, making no move to take her hand. "I know. I asked Percy about you."

She frowned. When had that happened? Whenever she'd seen him, the kid had been either psychotic, sullen or caught up fighting monsters. None of those seemed conductive to conversations.

He apparently sensed her skepticism, and waved a hand vaguely around in the air.

"Back when- you know," he shrugged. "Westover."

"Oh. Of course," she couldn't believe she'd forgotten that. "You and your sister-"

"Yeah," he interrupted. He didn't do it particularly politely.

She got the hint: small talk was not something brooding Sons of the Underworld thought worthy of their time, and nosy Daughters of Athena should keep their mouths shut for the foreseeable future. The message was surprisingly effective (coming from a pre-teen kid), but it wasn't like anyone had ever dared to give _her_ orders. Well- not for a while now, at least. And anyway, it was either talk or succumb to irrational jealousy. And irrationality was well, irrational.

The kid had plenty of time to brood in the future. At least he would, if he got over demigod mortality statistics.

"Don't snap at me," she told him. "I was just trying to make conversation."

"Yeah well," he muttered, "I don't feel like it."

"That much was obvious," she muttered back, pausing at the sight of a likely all-purpose store, "You don't mind if we go in there, do you?"

He shrugged. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, pushed open the door and walked in.

The shop was... well, she would have liked to say it was airless and dim, but someone had managed to add in improvised skylights to make things a bit better. Half-assed and most certainly added post-planning, but not everyone could be an architectural genius now, could they?

There was a bored guy at the counter, who glanced over before going back to his magazine.

"Self-service," he told them helpfully from behind it, "Try flicking anything and I'll set the dog on you."

There was a mongrel somewhere in front of his feet (and to the side). It looked at them and wagged it's tail.

"Terrifying. Come on," Annabeth dug into her pockets for cash, "It doesn't look like there's much food here, but those donuts don't look too bad."

"I'll pay."

"It doesn't-"

"I'll pay," he repeated somewhat defensively, turning out his jacket pockets. "I can afford it."

Blessed Parthenon. The kid was touchier than _Clarisse._

"I never said you couldn't," she told him.

He didn't even bother giving her a Look. Annabeth counted to three and blew a strand of hair off her face in sheer frustration. Nico ignored that too, and went to check out the foods section.

Hubris be damned. This was a lost cause.

By the time she had found a usable prism substitute, Nico had apparently scarfed down about half a box of donuts. She automatically opened her mouth to tell him that was a bad idea and would possibly give him both cavities and a stomachache, and barely managed to close it before he could turn another glare in her direction.

"How much for this one?" she asked the guy at the counter instead, putting down the glass bowl in front of him.

He blinked at the bowl and turned it over, presumably checking for a price tag. When he discovered there wasn't one, he vanished through a tiny door behind the counter, clutching the bowl to him and shooting them another suspicious glance.

Annabeth sighed and resisted the urge to bang her head against the counter. It wouldn't be a very productive course of action. It would almost be as non-productive as imaging wild scenarios of passionate love declarations by Percy to the Mortal girl. Which was just wrong on so many levels, but hey. Try telling _that_ to her paranoia.

"Can we go yet?"

She jumped and had a hand halfway to her knife before her brain took charge of her reflexes and pointed out that it was just Nico.

"Don't do that!" she snapped. Her paranoia was having a seizure.

"Sorry," the kid shrugged, spectacularly insincere, "This is getting boring."

She _wanted _to say _I realize that thankyouverymuch, _but settled for "Look, the guy's taking his own sweet time. There's nothing we can do about it."

A pause. Then,

"Can't we just _take_ one?"

"No, that would be stealing."

"A broken glass bowl?" Nico snorted, "Oh yeah, they're gonna call the cops over that. I think attempting to save the world is slightly more important, and the more time we lose, the worse it's going to be. Aren't you supposed to be the logical one?"

Annabeth paused and considered it for a few seconds, then shook her head. Her preliminary pro/con list was heavily weighted in favour of just waiting for a while because stealing a glass piece was just silly and it was going to take some time for a Mortal to find reliable transportation anyway.

"So_ Percy's_ the logical one?" Nico, not party to her reasoning, wondered, "We were doomed from the start, weren't we?"

She shot him a Cabin Six Glare (TM) and he deflated from annoyingly arrogant kid to sullen preteen. It happened so fast it was impressive, and she was suddenly struck by the fact that the kid who'd been wandering around the labyrinth with a spooky ghost was _eleven._ So yeah, she'd been pretty formidable at that age too, but when you were fifteen and looking at it from the outside, it _felt_ different.

Nico pretended not to see her staring at him, then glared at the floor and kicked at it halfheartedly. Annabeth frowned and turned back to the counter, her fingernails tapping on the peeling plywood. And to thinking about Percy and the Mortal girl and their little getaway...

Time passed. Nico stomped around the shop twice, and Annabeth steadily increased the tempo of her tapping till it took all her concentration to keep it going, because anything was better than romantic paranoia.

The mongrel somewhere to the left of her feet whined in protest.

Annabeth muttered a curse and glared at the door. Then something bright red rolled past her leg and towards the dog. She transferred the glare on instinct.

"It's my ball," Nico snapped, just in case she assumed otherwise.

Annabeth tilted her head and examined the object, which was now being enthusiastically slobbered upon. Memories nudged themselves up from the back of her mind.

"A red rubber ball?"

He looked at her suspiciously.

"You travel with a red rubber ball?"

He scowled, informing her without words that it was none of her business. She grinned back at him, and his scowl deepened.

"For Cerebrus, I'm guessing? He still likes them?"

His eyes widened, "How-"

"Percy and I went to the underworld when we were twelve," Annabeth said, leaning against the counter and folding her arms, "We had to get past Cerebrus."

"Oh."

As that was digested, there was silence for a few moments.

"Cute dog," Annabeth said, "Monstrous and scary and all that, but very, um-"

"Puppyish?" Nico provided.

"I don't think that's a word, but yes. Essentially," Annabeth sighed, "We had a dog once, but then my brother turned out to be allergic to them. Who knew?"

"Oh."

Silence was broken only by happy canine slurps.

"He went through about ten balls a day," Nico announced, slumping, "Each head, I mean. And my father doesn't do ball games."

Annabeth was struck by a fleeting image of Hades, lord of the dead in bermudas throwing a frisbee. It wasn't a very pretty image, and she agreed that Hades should stick to doom and gloom and dour shades of dark colours.

"I should have just stayed back in the Underworld," Nico continued, giving the floor his undivided attention, "It feels so weird to be back up here."

"And the _Underworld_ feels normal?" she raised her eyebrows.

He scowled at the floor and didn't come up with a reply.

"It's..." she searched for words, "probably not a good thing, spending all your time with dead people."

"Thanks, genius."

"Sorry," Annabeth shrugged, "But you're human. Humans aren't supposed to mix with the Underworld."

"I'm a son of Hades, remember?" he told her, his tone condescending.

That was what set her off. That and possibly the constant, nagging worry at the back of her head that Percy and the Mortal girl were kissing each other senseless somewhere away from the range of her fury. Annabeth hadn't been receptive to patronization even when she'd been four and had just eaten two handfuls of feathers on the misguided assumption that-

Well. That was another story.

"And I'm a daughter of Athena," she huffed out, "And I don't spend all my time drawing up battle plans or coming up with the next scintillating patent. On occasion, I do normal things. Like going to the movies, talking with my girlfriends, trying to control my brothers; stuff like that. And apparently, I also get stupidly paranoid over oblivious guys. Does that sound wise to you?"

"Uh," he commented, looking at her a little warily.

Annabeth sighed and briefly rubbed at her eyes. Her mouth had declined to check in with the rest of her before shooting out. But really, the kid was starting to get on her nerves.

"And while we're at it, what's with the whole roaring rampage of revenge thing? Gods, kid, were you even paying attention to what you were doing? Listening to Minos?"

"I didn't-" he began hotly, going a little red around the ears. But Annabeth was on a rant. And nothing stopped Annabeth on a rant.

"And blaming Percy, of all people? That falls neatly into the category of illogical and stupid. Honestly, kid. Haven't you noticed that you're so caught up in feeling sorry for yourself that you're making everything just that much worse?"

He started to protest, then closed his mouth. It looked like he still felt guilty about the Minos incident. Which he should have, since it was entirely his own fault.

"Look, I get the whole _I come from doom and gloom and so must act like it _theory. Really. I get the fact that you made mistakes, and it could happen to anybody. What I'm trying to say here is that being who you are is no excuse to hole up in your own little world to mope around till you join your Dad for good. And _that_ is wisdom."

The door behind the counter opened at that precise instant, providing appropriate emphasis to her lecture. Annabeth turned her attention to the guy and paid what seemed like an outrageous amount for a piece of glass, and stepped out of the door to find a spray of water.

Nico joined her only after she'd contacted Chiron and got an update on how grim the situation was, and he had slobber all over his shoe and a frown on his face. She grunted at him and started to lead the way back to Percy and the Mortal girl.

After a while, he cleared his throat.

"Um. Annabeth?"

"Yeah?"

"Um," he sounded hesitant, and had to take a deep breath before he could continue, "You might have a point. I'm not saying that you do, necessarily, but-" he winced, "I'll think about it."

The kid knew when to admit his faults, apparently. It wasn't a fluke back there in Daedalus' lab. Good thing too; he could do some real damage if he was the type to charge into things headfirst.

"Yes, you probably should."

"Yeah well," he bristled a little, "I still don't think you _get_ it, but Minos was a bad idea. So I'll think about the rest. _Think_ about it. Nothing else."

The vehemence probably meant that he already had, and that he wasn't very happy about what he'd come up with. And he was still admitting she had a point.

Annabeth was impressed. Most demigods she met were blockheaded enough to prefer facing the gorgon to admitting they were wrong.

He noticed her smiling at him, and scowled suspiciously.

"What now?"

"Nothing," Annabeth shook her head, "Thanks for listening."

"Yeah. Whatever," he muttered uncomfortably, going a little red, and followed her back to the rest of the group.

* * *

><p><strong>End<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>I am _not_ very happy with this. I think I'm out of practice again.

The solution to that should be obvious. But procrastination is too great a force to be ignored.

Anyway, I've been wanting to do a Nico_Annabeth bonding thing since BotL, where Nico _listening_ to Annabeth out of the blue was a 'huh what?" moment for me. Because they totally had a squeeing session over Cerebrus and Nico started filling her into the Bianca-shaped hole in his life because she was just that bossy and _then_ it would make sense.

I get twitchy about little things which don't make sense. Neurotic, I know. 8D Any comments are appreciated.


End file.
